


Open Endings

by grav_ity



Series: grav_ity plays dragon age origins [9]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins, Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening
Genre: F/F, F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-04
Updated: 2019-07-04
Packaged: 2020-06-07 17:56:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19474354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grav_ity/pseuds/grav_ity
Summary: “It’s sex,” Kentha says. “Pregnant women, sometimes, well, the word I’m pretty sure I wasn’t supposed to overhear was insatiable.”There is a moment of total silence where the earth opens up to swallow no one, however much they might be wishing for it.“I can do that much,” says Alistair at exactly the same time Mhairi says, “I would never ask—”





	Open Endings

Mhairi becomes increasingly irritable as they wait for the Hero of Ferelden to arrive, and Alistair is at his wit’s end. Before, he would have made a joke about that not being very far, but he has grown since those days, and is much more aware of his own worth. He’s a good man and a good king, and he _thought_ he had a handle on being a good husband, but as Mhairi’s belly grows, he gets less and less sure.

At last, word is brought that Kentha’s banner has been spotted on the road. Mhairi’s mood lifts a bit, finally able to prepare for the arrival of someone _other_ than the heir, and orders for baths and beds and dinners are sent, along with a request that the Warden-Constable wait upon the king and queen as soon as it is convenient. Alistair hopes his unusually formal address with convey his urgency. He is trying to be a professional.

Almost an hour passes before Kentha joins him in his sitting room. She arrives through the front door, not via their secret passage. There will be time for that later. Mhairi has stepped out to deal with some crisis of linen assignments, and Alistair takes the opportunity to beg for help.

“I know you’re probably exhausted,” he says, after seeing Kentha settled in a chair by the hearth, “but I have no idea what’s wrong. I asked, of course, but Mhairi’s health is fine and she’s not too put out by more weight on her back and feet, which I understand can be an issue, and I’ve made sure she gets all the weird food she wants. Have you ever seen someone drink pickle juice? It’s disturbing, and I’ve been in taverns with Oghren. Anyway, I’m open to suggestion.”

Kentha takes a drink of her cider and does her best not to laugh. She really doubts this is what Duncan had in mind.

“I’ll talk to her,” she promises. “What else have I missed?”

Alistair fills her in on various cheese-related incidents that have nothing to do with national security until Mhairi returns. Kentha stands to greet her, and Mhairi’s hug is uncharacteristically effusive. When they part, there is high colour in the queen’s cheeks, and if she didn’t know better, Kentha would guess she had a fever.

Oh.

Definitely not what Duncan had in mind.

Alistair looks at her hopefully and Kentha takes another pull of cider. Mhairi sits in a wide chair with her feet on a stool and her shoes kicked off. The queen’s dress is simple and she’s wearing thin leggings underneath it instead of petticoats. There is really no way to make this less awkward, so Kentha just plunges ahead.

“Alistair says you are well?” she asks artfully, her voice light.

“Yes,” says Mhairi, “only a strange restlessness that nothing can assuage.”

Alistair looks a bit hurt, but Kentha ignores him for a moment.

“I was still a girl when my brother’s first wife was pregnant.” Her voice still catches on it, but she keeps going. “I overheard all manner of things I’m sure I wasn’t supposed to. Surely you could ask Alistair for help.”

“No!” Mhairi says sharply. Her cheeks colour even further.

Alistair starts to protest and Kentha kicks him.

“It wasn’t part of our agreement,” Mhairi explains. “I can manage.”

“I feel very left out,” Alistair says. “Which is fine, but you know I will help you if I can, if only someone will please come straight out and tell me what we’re talking about.”

“It’s sex,” Kentha says. “Pregnant women, sometimes, well, the word I’m pretty sure I wasn’t supposed to overhear was _insatiable_.”

There is a moment of total silence where the earth opens up to swallow no one, however much they might be wishing for it.

“I can do _that_ much,” says Alistair at exactly the same time Mhairi says, “I would _never_ ask—”

They both stop, Mhairi even pinker and Alistair looking at a loss.

“Shall I go?” Kentha asks diplomatically. She misses Alistair of course, but they’ve never been jealous and this is important.

“Please don’t,” Mhairi says. She turns to her husband, kicking the footstool aside for balance. “Alistair, I appreciate the offer, but I knew when I entered into this marriage with you that I had a job to do, and we’ve mostly done it. I would not press you for anything else, not when I know where your heart is.”

“But—” Alistair says.

“We’ll renegotiate,” Kentha says. “Our arrangement will never survive if it’s inflexible.”

She rises and crosses to Mhairi’s chair, moving the footstool even further away. She slides to her knees, catching her balance on the queen’s legs. She doesn’t miss Alistair’s sharp inhalation or the way Mhairi leans forward to rest her hands on her shoulders.

“My queen,” Kentha says. “Have you need of me?”

“Yes,” says Mhairi, and the world shrinks down to just the three of them and the heat from the fire.

“Alistair, the door,” Kentha says. “Then come back here.”

Once the door is locked, Kentha pulls Mhairi to her feet and starts to strip her out of her dress and leggings.

“Keep her in the chair,” Kentha directs Alistair, and the king sits with his wife in his lap, pulling her thighs apart as Kentha returns to her knees before them. “Don’t forget to touch her.”

With Alistair’s hands on her breasts and belly, and his mouth at her neck, Mhairi’s whole body flushes with want. Kentha’s never done this before, exactly, but Alistair has done it frequently enough to her that she feels like she understands the theory. She much less likely to choke with the queen in her mouth, at least, then with the king.

Mhairi tastes like fire under Kentha’s tongue, and begins to moan almost as soon as the Warden places mouth to quim. Alistair’s fingers may have something to do with that, moving over her breasts in ways that Kentha knows from personal experience more than get the job done. She hadn’t expected it to be quite so arousing, but as she looks up to gauge Mhairi’s responses and sees the expressions on their faces, her own heat begins to pool between her legs.

She’s using both her hands for balance—Mhairi’s belly makes the angles a challenge—but there seems to be no complaints that she’s only working with her mouth. It doesn’t take very long before Mhairi’s hand closes in her hair, followed by Alistair’s. Kentha knows he has to be rock hard by now, but she doesn’t imagine any of them mind. Kentha closes her lips around Mhairi’s clit and sucks _hard_ , and the queen comes so abruptly she nearly jerks off her husband’s lap.

“Please,” she says, “Alistair, please.”

It’s a short scramble between the three of them to maneuver him free of his trousers and her onto his cock, and now it’s Kentha that holds _her_ steady as Alistair pushes her towards the edge again. Alistair’s face is set with concentration, and Kentha can tell he’s close to his own climax. She slides a hand between Mhairi’s legs, fingertips brushing against both of them at once, before she focuses on Mhairi’s clit again, edging her towards another orgasm.

Mhairi keeps up a litany of pleas, calling both their names as she begs for more, voice rising to keen as she fights for completion. At last, she breaks again, Alistair following her immediately, and Kentha slows her fingers, helping her ride it out. Mhairi stills after a few minutes, and Kentha withdraws, sitting back on her ankles. The king and queen are flushed and breathing hard, but Mhairi is smiling and Alistair is looking at her with the sort of wonder that used to grace his countenance before the world made him hard. In that moment, Kentha is so, so in love with them both, and so, so glad she’s helped build a world for them to be happy in.

“Bed,” Alistair says when he recovers.

“Yes,” Mhairi says, struggling to her feet. “I still want you both.”

She realizes what she’s said a few seconds later, and by then they’re all standing and looking at each other. Before it can get awkward again, Kentha leans forward and kisses her full on the mouth.

“Andraste’s knickers,” says Alistair, as though he is under great strain.

Mhairi starts to laugh, and Kentha does too.

They’re not graceful as they go into the bedroom. They think no further ahead than sleeping all in a pile. There will be a talk, at some point, about what they’ll do going forward and how the new arrangement will work, but right now, Kentha is focused on the softness of the mattress and the warmth of Alistair’s smile and the welcome in Mhairi’s arms. They will find a way. They always have before.

Alistair settles his head between Kentha’s thighs with Mhairi looking on in great interest, her own hand between her legs, and Kentha doesn’t care about anything else in Thedas. They will sort all the details out later.

**Author's Note:**

> So once upon a time, I started playing Dragon Age, made a VERY unfortunate call at the Landsmeet, and then had to write 15K of fanfic to make myself feel better. I hadn't written fic in FOREVER, and I was jumping into a brand new fandom, and you guys were all SO WELCOMING. It was delightful. I'm so glad we're here. Thank you.


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